Johns Intuition
by GreatDays
Summary: John turns the tables and finds Sherlock. Post Reichenbach. Non Slash.
1. In which John is right

Hi guys, so this is my first Sherlock Fanfic. Hope you enjoy it. I must admit I don't know where this story is going, I might need some advice and opinions if you'd like me to carry on.

Thanks and I hope you enjoy this.

GreatDays.

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><p>"He's here isn't he?" John's voice was frantic but demanding at the same time. "He's here, he's got to be here." John pushed his way past Molly and into her house.<p>

...

John Watson had been obsessed. He had been obsessed with Sherlock death. He didn't believe Sherlock could be dead. Of course not, the most brilliant mind the world had ever could not be dead. He couldn't be. He just couldn't be.

John was lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His mind would not let him rest. He hadn't gotten more than 3 hours of sleep in the past two days. He was tired , he was miserable and he was agitated. Something in his memory was bugging him. Something wasn't right about Sherlock's "death".

Nothing made sense. Nothing added up. Sherlock's too clever for something stupid as a fall off a building, right? Anyway, his eyes weren't the same colour as the body on the pavement. Sherlock's eyes were dark. Sometimes when he was angry enough, they'd even look blue. But never, never had he seen Sherlock with green eyes.

And his scarf, his favourite scarf. The scarf on the body wasn't his. It didn't look the same, didn't feel the same. He doubted whether that too was even the same colour. It couldn't have been Sherlock.

John rolled over on his side. His heart was beating fast. He stared at the window from his bed. He watched absent mindedly as the raindrops fell from the sky. He tried to calm his breathing. He closed his eyes but wasn't able to sleep. His thoughts wouldn't leave him alone.

And, Sherlock refused to see Mrs. Hudson. Why? Because he had to go prepare for his death. It must have been staged. It can't have been real . He knew I would go. He had to make me leave. Why though? Couldn't he have let me in on his secret ?

And the blooming idiot on his bike. He drugged me. He bloody drugged me. Who does that? No one just rides around drugging people. That was done on purpose. On bloody purpose.

_Why Sherlock? Why do you want to keep me in the dark? _

Why did you have to die? He didn't die. Why, then Sherlock did you make me think you died.

John was angry. John Watson was very angry. He was angry at Sherlock for doing this to him. He was angry at Lestrade to told him to take it easy when John confronted him about Sherlock being alive. He was angry at his friends who would treat him with pity in their eyes. Who would talk to him gently and treat him as if he were about to break.

John got up and swung his legs over the bed. It was time to get up and go find Sherlock.

He was angry at Mycroft. MYCROFT, Sherlock's own brother drove him to fake his own suicide. Damn you Mycroft.

John sprang up off the bed with new found vigor, got dressed and hailed a cab.

_Sherlock's not dead. Sherlock's not dead. Sherlock's not dead. Sherlock's not dead. Sherlock's not dead. Sherlock's not dead. _

John, got out of the cab, paid the driver and pounded on the door.

"Hello John" she sounded surprised. "I was just-"

"He's here isn't he?" John's voice was frantic but demanding at the same time. "He's here, he's got to be here." John pushed his way past Molly and walked into her house.

"John what are you talking about? Who?"

"Sherlock. Sherlock's alive. Don't you see ? He's not dead." Molly froze. She stopped John from going any further through the house.

"John" She said quietly but firmly. "He's gone. He's dead. He's not here- hhhe's not anywhere anymore, okay?" Her voice was shaking. Her eyes were filling up with tears. John started to shake his head. He couldn't speak. Molly saw this and herded him into the kitchen for tea before he could say anymore.

"Come John." She sat him down on a chair and started to make tea. She glanced over at John . He looked so broken . So vulnerable. She wondered if John had started internalizing everything. He wasn't coping. She wondered if he'd speak again. He looked so lost. She so badly wanted to help but she didn't know how. She placed the tea in front of him. He barely acknowledged it. He sat in the chair opposite him.

"Look John. I know it's been hard but –"

"Your place has become so messy." Molly was startled at the abrupt change but at least John was talking, so she played along.

"Yeah, I've been busier at work than usual so the place has become slightly unruly." She blushed despite the cold weather.

"Weird. It reminds me of how messy our place used to get when –" John slammed down the mug on the table and ran from the kitchen table.

"SHERLOCK" He was screaming. He was running, franticly opening every door in Molly's house searching for his roommate. "SHERLOCK" At last he got to the last door of the corridor. Probably the guest bedroom. He could hear Molly behind him. He pushed open the door. His breath caught in his throat.

"Jesus." Sitting before him at a desk was his Sherlock. Some of his clothes were scattered on the bed. How had he not noticed they were missing? John took all of this is in a second and his eyes came back to rest on Sherlock's face. He couldn't believe it. John's legs gave away and he leaned against the doorframe for support.

"John" Sherlock stood and made his way toward him and he heard Molly rush into the room as he blacked out.

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><p>Hey, I hope you like it. I know it was a cliffhanger but like I said I don't know what to do next. If you have any ideas or suggestions- please PM me or review- it wont hurt ESPECIALLY as this is my first Sherlock Fanfic !<p>

Thank you guys

GreatDays


	2. In Which there is a confrontation

Okay, here we have Chapter 2, as you can see:) The reunion is very sentimental- I know some people don't like that. If I get enough response I might make an offshoot and write it differently. Also I would like to state that neither man in this story is gay. There are very close-like brothers.

And… Enjoy

GreatDays

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><p>John had had nightmares before. Lots of them. Like the one where he was in a trench waiting for the signal to fire when all of a sudden he was blown back by the force of the next trench being blown up. But lately- after Sherlock's death- he had nightmares about Sherlock falling. Him being unable to do anything. His Sherlock being dead.<p>

The one he was having right now was no different. Sherlock was standing on the roof of the hospital. He was telling John to go back. John complied but verbally resisted. Sherlock started talking about him leaving a note. Sherlock said bye... and then stepped off the roof. _"SHERLOCK"._ John was running. John was running and running but Sherlock was so far away. Bye the time he got to him he was on the floor. His head was bleeding. He wasn't blinking. John felt for his pulse. There wasn't one. John closed his eyes as he was being led away by someone. Then all of a sudden Sherlock stood up, blood dripping down from a wound on his head, and looked at John. John is dumbfounded and numb, he blinks and when he opens his eyes, Sherlock is gone.

Johns bolted up into a sitting position, gasping and shaking. He is confused. He hadn't gotten a dream like that before. _What happened? _ John had seen a flash of black beside him when he had gotten up. He froze. His head was in his hands. _God no, this can't be real. This isn't real. _

"John." _Sherlock. _Slowly he looks up to see Sherlock looking at him intently. John cringes. Sherlock's frown deepens.

John raised a shaky hand and touched Sherlock's arm- to make sure he was real. He was. Like a flipped switch, John got angry and raised his hand higher and slapped Sherlock. Both men started talking at the same time.

"John, wait a second, I know you're angry and confused and you hitting me was completely justified and I'm sorry for letting you think that I was dead. I really am sorry and know things aren't going to be exactly easy but none of that matters because I know that we will get over it if you forgive me please forgive me John."

"I thought you were dead Sherlock you bloody made me think and believe you were dead and here you are you're alive I know you must have reasons for being so BLOODY STUPID AND I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW WHAT THEY ARE BUT COULDN'T YOU HAVE TOLD ME HUH OR DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING ME A FAVOR?" They stopped talking\shouting at the same time. John's voice had risen and he was practically shouting at Sherlock and Sherlock didn't know what to do.

"Uhm, I brought you both tea." Molly said peeking her head around the door. She entered carrying a tray. She had heard the raised voices and had gotten worried. John was sitting on the bed, totally avoiding Sherlock's gaze. John looked completely disheveled and Sherlock, who was sitting on the bed beside John, was looking lost. She set the tray on the bedside table as it looked as if no one was really in the mood for tea. She quietly left the room.

"Why did you do it? You'd better have a good reason." His voice was so small Sherlock wasn't sure he'd heard it. Sherlock took a deep breath and continued in a somber tone.

"To protect everyone I care about. Moriarty was threatening all of you, Mrs Hudson, Greg even Andrew and Donovan. It was the only way I could protect you all and later, perhaps come back." Sherlock was surprised to see a hint of awe and pride on Johns face.

"What?" he asked softly.

"Although it hurt that you faked your death, it was bloody brilliant. You made the worst criminal in all of London commit suicide, protected your friends and made a comeback…and you most defiantly aren't a fake." John cast a meaningful glance at Sherlock. Sherlock chuckled.

The mood had become considerably lighter, John and Sherlock just had to talk things out and they would be okay. But something was still weighing heavily on Sherlock's mind.

"John."

"Hmmm?" He had picked up his tea and was taking a sip.

"Do you think you can forgive me?" John put his cup down and looked Sherlock straight in the eye.

"Of course I forgive you Sherlock, but things can't just go back to normal- although I would like them to. I want to know I can trust you again. I also, want to know that you will never do that to me again. So, yes I forgive you but can we move on? That's up to you.

"I also want things to be normal, John. And I swear, I will not do that to you ever again." John noticed Sherlock had become slightly hesitant. "John, can I move back into the flat with you? Or is it too soon, because I understand I f you'd rath-"

"Of course, you idiot. We can have our try at normalcy, can't we?" They lapsed into companionable

silence and were just happy to be in the presence of one another again.

"I knew you weren't dead." John said finally.

Sherlock smiled, "I know, I heard."

"No, I mean, I became obsessed with believing you weren't dead. Because I knew, _I knew _that you couldn't be dead. I don't know what I would've done if I didn't find you today."

"But you did, to be honest I was completely surprised you did. Not that I doubt your abilities John, I just thought I had done everything right.

"Well, your "body" had some serious flaws to it. Sherlock guffawed .

"Like what?"

John and Sherlock spent the rest of the afternoon talking about their time spent apart and politely declined the offer to supper at Molly's house. They both preferred to eat a decent meal in their apartment after a _very_ long time.

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><p>Okay, so let me know what you think. Please no flames. I know there will be some who like it some who don't. I might write an offshoot. So please be gentle:)<p>

P.S. Their NOT gay- just brotherly love :)

Love you guys

GreatDays


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